Page 85 of Worth the Chase

“Home.”

“On my way,” I said before hanging up and running into the garage, my feet slipping out of the soles as I ran.

I had no idea what had happened, but I’d never heard Bells sound like that before. Something was wrong. My gut churned as I tried to think of what it could be. Had she gotten hurt? Had she gotten into a car accident? Had something happened at work?

When I pulled into her parking lot like a maniac, I almost ran over a group of guys with suitcases running toward a waiting car. This dude with bright red hair gave me a wave, as if to apologize, but he’d done nothing wrong. I was the one who’d almost hit them. Didn’t really give a shit at this point. I just needed to get to my girl.

Sprinting up the stairs, I knocked on the front door when I couldn’t get in. It was locked, and I didn’t have a key.

“Bells, it’s me. Let me in,” I said, knowing how crazed I must have sounded.

Tires screeched in the distance, and I glanced behind me to see the car with the dudes I’d almost run over peeling out of the parking lot.

I was about to break the damn door down when I heard the dead bolt unlatch, and Bells pulled the door open. She practically crumpled at the sight of me, her legs giving out like they couldn’t hold her upright a second longer. I bent down and scooped her into my arms before walking to the couch and sitting down, still holding her. Her body was shaking as she sobbed and mascara-filled tears streaked down her face. I wiped at them gently and held her so tight, my heart breaking, my mind racing.

I’d hold her like this all night if that was what she needed, but I still had no idea what the hell had happened. After what felt like an eternity of her not saying a word, I started talking as my desperation for information took over.

“Bells,” I whispered, kissing the side of her head.

She didn’t stop crying or make any move to look at me.

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I’m going to call everyone I know to come over here.”

She sniffed and finally moved her head to glance up at me. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. I can’t sit here, wondering what has you crying like this, baby. You’ve got to tell me before I start breaking shit.”

I watched as she removed herself from my grasp and scooted to sit next to me instead of in my arms. She inhaled a few times, her eyes closing with each one, as if she was working up the courage to speak.

“Bells, come on. I’m dying here,” I pleaded.

“There were some guys at the bar earlier,” she started to explain.

My body instantly stiffened. I already did not like one single bit of wherever this story was headed.

“One of them was pushier than the rest, but I didn’t think anything of it. I sent them to the saloon and figured they’d meet some girls there.”

My jaw clenched as I willed my temper to stay even, but it was rising. I reached my hand out to hold hers, and her hazel eyes met mine.

“Go on.” I tried to swallow, but my throat felt thick and dry.

I watched as she started to cry again.

“When I got home tonight, they were here.”

“Here? Where? Waiting for you? Did they follow you?” I let go of her hand and shifted on the couch before pushing up off of it and pacing a damn hole in the carpet.

“No. But the pushy one was basically outside my door. I guess they must have rented out one of the units,” she clarified.

“Which one?” I kept interrupting her, and I knew that I should shut the hell up, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Matthew.”

I sat back down.

“Sorry.” I reached for her hand again and started stroking the top of it. “Continue.”

“So, that guy was really drunk, and he—” She started sobbing. “He grabbed my hair and pushed me to my knees.” Her words were barely understandable.